


Winter Lights

by Soule



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9153277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soule/pseuds/Soule
Summary: Winter Veil is a time to make memories for all those across Azeroth - a mouthy Mage and stoic Demon Hunter in particular.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for all of those at the Grimory and Anarchaia facebook page and those who follow them on tumblr! Fans like you keep the fire to make these burning. You're all the best.
> 
> But for real tho I wrote some of this while in a not-too-happy mood so it gets kinda choppy towards the end. Sorry for that. :I The next one will be better.

                While snow had not been plentiful that evening, the holiday spirits were – both spiritual and fluid. Many citizens of Dalaran had gathered in the streets in and around Runeweaver Square. The noise was cacophonous as much as it was festive. Horde and Alliance alike drank heavily and sang loudly as they awaited the annual Lighting of the Tree at the heart of the city.

                Due to its teleportation elsewhere, Dalaran would not see snow this year – the coastal atmosphere of the Broken Isles would see to that. A few of the Tirisgarde, however, saw it fit to conjure some in parts of the streets. They gave life to a few snowmen at the request of some of the city’s children, but the frozen caricatures soon realized how much more they preferred to throw snowballs at onlookers rather than dance.

                As expected, many individuals of similar race or profession gathered together in cliques – speaking of experiences and hopes for the year to come. Warriors sparred just outside The Filthy Animal, their axes sparking against one another. Rogues hid beneath the streets in the seedy Underbelly, sharpening their blades and telling tales. Druids sat beneath the trees where they found it most comfortable, drinking tea.

                The mages threw spells around recklessly at the top of the stairs to the Violet Citadel – one in particular having had a too much to drink… as usual. Archmage-in-Training Anarchaia clumsily blinked out of the way as a rather large ball of fire zipped by.

                “Haha! You’ll have to be faster than that old man!” she cried from beneath her mask and hood, throwing her hands onto her hips in triumph.

                Her opponent growled. “I’ll have you know I was once a handsome young gentleman!” Meryl Felstorm threw another flame in her direction, this time nearly hitting her.

                “And I was once an elekk,” she sneered

                “Such disrespect!” the Undead half-mage hissed. “I have half a mind to summon the fiercest demon I know to teach you a lesson!”

                “That would require you to have half a mind.” The small girl ran her boot across the floor, sparking up a flame that rushed towards the man, gathering mass as it did.

                Meryl blocked the attack with an invisible wall of arcane energy. “You’re lucky you’re Khadgar’s apprentice, girl. What he sees in you I’ll never know.”

                As if on cue, Khadgar himself stepped into the open air outside the citadel, inhaling deeply, a smile across his rugged face. “While I’ll miss the snow this year, I’m still grateful to spend Winter Veil surrounded by friends and loved ones… even if they quarrel like children.”

                Anarchaia snorted. “He called you a child.”

                “You _are_ a child!” Meryl grumbled.

                The girl gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to her chest in faux offense. “I’m nearly forty now!”

                “You know what I meant,” he growled, waving a dismissive hand and turning to retreat into the citadel with more comfortable company.

                “What a grumpy old man,” Ana quipped, lifting her mask to just above her lips to take another sip from her cup she’d left sitting on the stone banister.

                “You could at least try to get along with him, Ana.” Khadgar gingerly took the mug from her hands, causing her to grasp for it and make stuttered noises of alarm. He sniffed its contents, crinkling his nose at the overwhelming stench of alcohol. “How many of these have you had?”

                “Not enough.”

                Smiling warmly and shaking his head, the tall man dumped the remaining liquid onto the steps below and tossed the receptacle into the air where it promptly disappeared in a puff of purple sparks. “Come. You’re to assist me with the lighting of the tree come midnight.”

                “Yessir,” Ana droned grudgingly, following down the steps after her mentor.

                “Have you gotten a gift for your friend?” Khadgar inquired as they walked the street abreast of one another.

                Ana gasped sharply – genuinely that time. “No! Oh no, how could I forget?” She grasped at her hood. “Ugh I’m so stupid and forgetful…” A large gloved hand rested itself atop her head and she sighed.

                “I’m sure he’ll understand. It’s been a busy year for everyone.”

                “But what if he got _me_ something? What’ll I do then?” Her lithe, bony hands found their way to her face. The alcohol had done a good job of exaggerating her emotions, tormenting her over something so trivial.

                “Why don’t you present him with your presence?”

                “My…?” she followed Khadgar’s blue gaze to a dark corner of the street near the Enchanting Shoppe. A small cluster of Demon Hunters stood in a circle, drinking and laughing in their stoic way. Among them a familiar face crowned in feathered blond hair and twisting horns. His emerald eyes glowed behind the flush of a drunken stupor. “But… the tree?”

                “I’ll set it up myself. Just be back before midnight if it isn’t too much?”

                Anarchaia smiled up at him before pulling her mask back down over her chin. “I promise.”

                The two parted ways, Ana phasing into a state of invisibility while tiptoeing toward her target. While not necessary, she found herself holding her breath in an attempt at stealth. Inching her way into the circle, she bit her lip in anticipation of the hilarity to come – the hilarity that comes with a buzz caused by holiday nog, that is to say. Just before she was about to slink behind her objective, however, a powerful arm wrenched around her face, clamping her throat in the crook of a muscle-bound elbow and sweeping her easily off her feet.

                “Well well, what have we here?” her captor hummed, his bright green eyes alight with the fire of his Demonic eyesight. “An assassin perhaps?”

                “There’s a universal truce during Winter Veil, Kayn. You know this,” said the sultry blond woman beside the large man holding Anarchaia.

                Ana scratched at the arm and flailed, her invisibility finally failing and revealing her once more. “I was just trying to scare Grim!”

                “Oh, it’s Ana.” Grimory gave a faint smile that quickly turned to a stern line. “You can let her go. She’s harmless.”

                Kayn Sunfury gave an apathetic shrug and obliged, dropping Ana back to her feet.

                She made an effort to brush off her completely untouched robes and snort in the man’s general direction before stepping over to her friend. “So how’s it going over here? Drinking lots? Having fun?”

                “Yeah, actually. Finally decide to come out of your castle, yeah?” Grimory’s pointed teeth flashed as he spoke. His voice had grown thick with alcohol and his demeanor thick with a sweetness he’d not normally had despite his efforts to look cool and collected.

                “It’s a citadel but yeah,” Ana laughed.

 

                As the night grew old, Grimory introduced her to his small circle of Illidari friends. She listened intently as they spoke of their victories, defeats, and their initiation into the shadow of Illidan’s wings. The question of origin was shot in Ana’s direction, but she swatted it down awkwardly, changing the subject with the grace of a three-legged worg.

                Drinks were poured – Ana passing on more alcohol when the vision of her Master’s disappointed face filled her mind’s eye – and promptly consumed.

                And poured.

                And consumed.

                Until there came a point where the laughter was deafening and most of the circle had chosen to sit rather than stand – a few even sauntering off to bother other groups. 

                “’m not looking forward to goin’ back tuh that Hell city…” Grim’s speech grew gradually harder to understand with each cup he downed.

                “Suramar? Yeah… It’s been rough but I think we’ve been making some good progress,” Ana said, balancing a small cinder in the empty space between her palms (as she was prone to do when not knowing what to do with her hands). “I just hope that… we… uh…”

                Grimory had become so intoxicated that he’d closed his eyes while standing, his arms folded over his broad chest.

                “Are you okay?”

                “M’fine,” he muttered, the tips of his long ears drooping lazily. “Jus’ need to rest a minute.”

                “I don’t think you’re gonna-“ Before she was able to finish her sentence, the elf stumbled sideways as he lost his footing. Reacting quickly, Anarchaia blinked to the area he was likely to fall and wedged herself between him and the ground. “H-Hey! Grim!”

                “Hn? O-Oh!” He laughed – a genuine laugh she’d rarely heard – and stumbled back to a stand with a strange drunken elegance. “Sorry. I’ll stay awake this time…”

                “Uh… I think maybe we should just get you to an inn to sleep this off. Here, I’ll lead you.” She wrapped her arm around his and did her damnedest is steer him towards the inn just across the street. “You shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re gonna miss the tree lighting, now…”

                “Jus’ set me down in the square… we can watch together…”

                Ana gave a flustered chuckle. “You wouldn’t stay awake if I did that. It’s best I just lie you down somewhere. I’ll pay for the room, too…”

                The Innkeeper smiled coyly at the two when he was offered coin. “One night, then? For two?”

                Ana bristled, nearly dropping Grimory in her scramble to correct the man. “J-Just one! I’m dropping him off! I won’t be staying! H-He’s really drunk…” she trailed off when she’d realized how incriminating she’d sounded and jerked Grim toward the stairwell with a disconcerted _hmph!_.

                The Demon Hunter mumbled incoherently as they climbed the stairs to the short hallway at the apex. His head nearly brushed against the archway at the top of the stairs and Ana hissed in frustration as she tried to steady him as to avoid taking a long tumble back down. After finding the correct door, the two staggered into the room – nearly completely falling.

                When Ana turned to close the latch, however, their feet circled each other and they ultimately did fall. Her back hit the hardwood floor with enough force to knock the wind out of her if there’d been any to knock out, and, in serendipitous fashion, Grimory fell to his hands and knees above her, his knuckles just on the edges of her peripherals. Her hands quickly pushed against his chest to keep him from falling completely atop of her – lest he crush her ‘neath his 200+ pounds of muscle.

                “Sorry…” he breathed, his breath laden with alcohol.

                Ana gave a sigh of relief and opened her mouth to coach him into the bed, but stopped when she felt something tickling her forehead. A piece of mistletoe had somehow tangled itself within Grimory’s hair along with a piece of tinsel – perhaps on the perilous trek up the stairs.

                He’d seemed to notice just as she looked up at the leafy intruder. In the briefest moment of sobriety, Grim blushed and quickly sat up. “S-Sorry!” he repeated, quickly attempting to untangle the foliage from his golden mane.

                “It’s okay…” Ana sat up on her elbows, clearing her throat nervously. “You… You can… do it… if you want…”

                The Illidari stopped abruptly to stare down at her. “…do…?”

                Anarchaia mumbled something under her breath.

                “Kiss you?” he asked, somewhat incredulously.

                “N-Not unless you don’t want to! It’s just bad luck if you don’t do it is all and I’m not that superstitious to begin with but I figured you might be and I’d hate to bring you bad luck just before the new year comes in and I know you’re really drunk and I don’t want to take advantage of that and I know you might not think of me like that since you don’t really know what I look like and oh Gods I’m still talking why haven’t you stopped m-“  
                “Okay.”

                Her heart skipped a beat. “…okay?”

                “Yeah, okay.” His hands abandoned the mistletoe in his hair and found their way to the base of her mask at her collar bone. He paused when her hands instantly flew to his wrists, and, still in a drunken slur, said “don’ worry. I won’t pull it past yer mouth…”

                Brimming with anticipation and possible regret, Ana gave a curt nod and allowed him to push the hem of her mask to just below her nostrils. Panic rose again within her as he leaned down, the moonlight filtering through the window and illuminating his sultry expression. “I can’t stress enough how much you don’t need to do this-“

                “Shut the hell up for once in your goddamn life, Ana,” and, his hands cradling her head just behind her jaw, he kissed her. It wasn’t deep or passionate, but it was enough to leave her wishing it’d lasted longer.

                “O-Okay let’s get you onto the-“ She was interrupted by another kiss. “Grim you don’t have to-“ Another. “I’m going to be la-“ The fourth one lasted the longest, and, defeated, she brought her hands to his chest while her heart nearly pounded out of her own. His lips pressed harder against hers, subtly pushing her back onto the floor. When he pulled away for a brief breath, Ana bit her lower lip and ran her fingers up the length of his chest, neck, and jaw. Their lips met again and she untangled the trash from his hair, tossing the items aside and replacing them with her fingers.

                She went rigid when one of his hands found its way to her hip, the thumb pressing firmly against her ilium. _He’s not possibly thinking about…?_ she thought to herself, taking each of his horns in her hands should the need arise to pull away.

                His palm trailed up her ribs, coming to rest over the top of a breast.

                Ana quickly pulled her face away from his, clearly ruffled. “W-We shouldn’t-“

                “Yer right I’m sorry,” he said abruptly, retracting his hand as quickly as her mouth had opened. “I-I dunno know what came over me.”

                There was a pause between them and the room was filled with nothing but the chatter of crowds outside.

                “You… would really want to do something like that with me?” Ana asked quietly, slowly releasing his horns from her grasp.

                He sat upright once more to look down at her. “Fucking?”

                A jolt ran through her at his sudden crass language but she quickly regained her composure. “I guess if that’s the word you’d prefer to use.”

                “I don’t see why not…”

                “You don’t know what I look like… what I _am_ …”

                “Why would I care? It’s not like yer hideous ‘r something… Even so…” His normal stern expression momentarily returned to his features and he looked away. “I like you for you…”

                She nearly choked on her own words. “L-Like me?!”

                “Not like a wife ‘r anything… but if something happened to you…”

                Ana clutched at her chest, knowing that tears would be stinging her eyes at that moment had she the capability to cry. “I… I feel the same way.” After a moment’s thought she propped herself back up on her elbows once again. Hesitating, she brought a hand to his thigh, running it under the layered plates bound to his belt. “I-I’m not gonna take my clothes off…” Her fingers stopped at the latch on his belt buckle. “…but you can.”

                He said nothing, but watched intently as she slowly sat up, pushing him back onto his rear and his back into the door. His armor and belt clattered to the floor and she kissed him again, her fingers deftly unlacing his breeches.

_Please don’t let him remember this._

Not bothering to watch what she was doing, she found his length and gently pulled it free. After a single stroke, however, she pulled away to look down. “Dear Gods,” Ana said quietly, leaning back. “Is that thing real?”

                Grimory flushed a dark shade of scarlet and rubbed at the soft hair on the back of his neck. “If it’s too big…”

                “No it’s not that- I just… How do you hide it so well? I never would have…”

                “I-It’s not a big deal if you don’t want to anymore. I understand.”

                Taking this as a dare, Ana furrowed her brow and grasped the organ once again in a gloved hand. “Look, mister. I don’t make mistakes and I certainly have no regrets.” A few good caresses elicited a quiet sigh from the elf. Ana swallowed hard and stared at his lust-filled face, knowing he could not see her gaze. Despite having little to no feeling in her bony fingers, she could feel the heat and flesh hardening against her palm with each gentle stroke.

                “Could you… take your gloves off?”

                She hesitated, having completely forgotten how to please a man in the some twenty years after she’d done so. “No… but I have a better idea.”  The hardwood floor was surprisingly warm on her stomach as she lie down between his legs.

                “Ana you don’t have to…”

                “Tell me how you like it.” She ran her tongue up the underside of his length, flattening it against the thick muscle beneath.

                “I-It’d help a lot if I could see your eyes… _Nn_ …”

                Ana licked at the base of the head, leaving a gleaming trail behind in the moonlight. “Well that’s not gonna happen so come up with something else.” The sound of his increased breathing urged her to bring a hand up to his chest, taking time to run her fingers through each crease of muscle on the way. His heart was pounding and it made her smile.

                He paused.

                “C’mon Grim I’m on a schedule.”

                “All of it.”

                She lifted an eyebrow. “…all of it?”

                “If you can.”

                She smiled again and repeated running her tongue up the length before wrapping her lips around the head. He could be heard inhaling sharply when she gave a single suck. Then, without warning, Ana pushed its entirety into her throat.

                Grimory gave a sharp cry and threw his head back into the door while simultaneously placing a hand over his mouth and another on the back of her cranium. “A-Ana!” While her lips were indeed warm, the depths of her esophagus were _hot._ He shivered and closed his now flaming eyes as she slowly brought her head back up. He looked down at her breathlessly, sweat beading on his jaw and chest.

                “Like that?”

                “ _Gods_ yes. Just like that…” He bit his lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood as she lowered herself over him again, her smooth muscle tissue wrapping around his erection so tightly.

                Ana felt her own loins clench at the sound of his moans. As exciting and nearly irresistible as the aspect of sex with this handsome, toned man sounded, she couldn’t muster the courage to expose herself to him. Few scenarios that she played within her mind ended favorably. She wanted desperately to touch herself but resisted lest it rouse unwanted ideas.

                Instead she continued pushing every inch of him into and out of her throat, kissing the top of the head when he emerged and rubbing the base with her tongue when her nose met his torso. His mewls and groans reverberated through her chest, the sounds fueling her heart to pound against her ribs. _One day…_ she reassured herself, picking up speed, yearning to please him as best she could. His fingers tensed against base of her skull whenever she’d swallowed him to the hilt.

                After a few minutes of breathless cries and attempts to be quiet, she reached up to grasp his free wrist.

                He glanced down, intrigued, when she placed his other hand against the back of her head as well. While taking him a moment or two in his drunken state, Grim blinked slowly. “You… You want me to…?”

                She nodded, sucking hard as she lifted her head back up along his length.

                The wet sound of his member leaving her mouth made him bite his lip again.

                She licked her lips in anticipation. “I want you to use me… just for tonight.”

                “Y-Yeah…” A moan resonated from his throat as he thrust himself back into her face. “Ugh, _ffffuck_ …”

                Beneath her mask she closed her eyes, content at letting him do as he pleased. Her fingers released his tense thigh muscles and snaked up to his chest and abdominals – if she wasn’t going to get off from this as well she figured she’d at least enjoy touching him.

                His drives grew hungrier, faster, and his breathing became ragged. The short nails crowning his fingers dug themselves into her scalp even through the fabric. “ _Hah! –_ Ana! I’m – _nng –_ I’m close…!”

                The corners of her mouth curled against his cock and she clawed at this chest – her thumb and forefinger clamping around one of his nipples. “ _Mmhmm…_ ” she hummed. _Go on. Do it._

The vibrations in her esophagus must have been the tipping point as Grimory then forced himself so far into her mouth that her lips and nose were pressed tightly against him. His breath caught in his throat and every muscle he owned hardened and strained.

                Ana let him fill her, happy to have had the opportunity to finally do so. She opened her eyes to look up at his face – his brow furrowed and fangs clenched in the throes of ecstasy. His organ twitched and throbbed as it expelled its contents so deep into her throat that swallowing would hardly be necessary.

                When he collapsed, breathless and panting, she removed him from herself – a string of saliva being the only remnants of what had just occurred. She sat up, wiping her lips with the back of a gloved hand. “You’re lucky I don’t need to breathe.”

                “Whuh…?” He’s half conscious and dazed.

                Charmed, Ana laughs quietly and laces his pants back up for him. “C’mon. Bed.”

                She managed to assist him back to his feet and somehow into the featherbed near the window. He’d been practically asleep when she turned to leave, but still, his large hand grabbed her pinky and ring finger with surprising gentility. It had seemed as though he’d grabbed for her wrist but miscalculated the distance he’d need to reach.

                “Hey…”

                “Hm? What’s up?” She pulled her mask back over her exposed face.

                “I promise to get you a gift next year.”

                Unable to contain herself, Anarchaia let out a hearty laugh. “Go to sleep, demon boy.”

                “I’m not a demon… or a boy…” his voice trailed off as the darkness of slumber took him.

                A sense of urgency filling her, Ana opted to hop from the third-story balcony and into the streets below, landing slowly and gracefully on her feet. She quickly pushed through the crowds to Dalaran’s heart where the Lighting of the Tree had just begun.

                Khadgar sat patiently with three other Archmages, smiling warmly at the sight of her.

                “And not a moment too soon,” he mused.

                “I always keep my promises.” Ana brushed some dust from her robes and readjusted her hood. “Ready whenever!”

                The five took their places around the massive pine tree in the square. A countdown chant gradually swelled from the citizens around them. With each passing number, a violet circle slithered its way around the base of the tree, connecting each member of the Tirisgarde. Visible mana circled in the cool air.

                A beat after the sound of _One!!_ a swirling vortex of light engulfed the tree, starting at the bottom. Each unlit bulb it passed burst to life. When it finally reached the top, the star upon the highest point exploded in a shower of confetti and purple crackles, sparking cheering amongst the civilians.

                Ana had to jerk out of the way of a passing cork before a large hand clapped hard on her shoulder.

                Master Khadgar had to practically yell above the crowd. “Did you get your gift business sorted out?”


End file.
